


bride not-to-be

by DestinyFreeReally



Series: 100 Swan Queen Ficlets [19]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anti-Hook, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 17:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10576059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyFreeReally/pseuds/DestinyFreeReally
Summary: With Hook gone, engagement broken, Emma turns to Regina for a favor. (Based on a "I saved you a piece" prompt)





	

**Author's Note:**

> i know that Hook will come back on the show, and they'll make up and ride off into some boring, toxic sunset, but for the sake of the fic, he's Gone- and Emmas left to cancel a wedding (for the sake of the fic, she's already planned a wedding) (can ya'll just let me have this)

    “Hey, I saved you a piece.” Emma brandished a tupperware of cake, holding it out to Regina like an excuse. An excuse to be there, on her doorstep, instead of in a big, empty house, alone. “If someone would’ve told me cancelling a wedding meant a whole cake to myself, maybe I would’ve done it sooner.” The small insecure laugh that escaped her, barely sounded like Emma to Regina, but Regina bit her tongue. Right now, Emma Swan didn’t need scolding, she didn’t need a pep talk, but - “Got two forks?”    
  
    “Of course, come in.” Truthfully, Regina was relieved and a little surprised- Emma Swan’s always been quick to release a self-deprecating joke with one hand on a pastry, but Emma genuinely looked a little better, a little lighter; less colorless, more full-spectrum-vibrant.   
  
    “I’ll be honest,” Emma unceremoniously kicked her boots off at the door, “this cake comes with a condition.”   
  
    “Oh?” Regina’s eyebrows shot up; for weeks, she’d been waiting for Emma to ask for anything- a tissue, a drink, Hook’s  _ other  _ hand fed to a crocodile-  _ finally _ , maybe she needed something.   
  
    “You’re not allowed to ask how I’m doing.” With a weak attempt at a smile, Emma sat at the kitchen table and popped the top off the tupperware. “No sneaking it in, either; no  _ how’re you holding up _ , or  _ is there anything I can do _ , believe me, I’ve heard every version.”    
  
    Frowning, Regina handed over a knife and a fork, and watched Emma cut two pieces of cake with more precision than she’d ever seen the woman do anything else. She cut slowly, and exacting, using every bit of focus just on  _ cake _ . Regina sat across the table, for seconds, and then got back up, abruptly.   
  
    “Am I allowed to ask if you want a drink?” She laughed only when Emma did, only when Emma finally looked up from the decadent, sugary, oddly painful pieces of cake. Deciding on a red wine,  _ wine and wedding cake with the Savior, _ Regina thought, taking a seat again. No matter how she’d pictured a Captain Killian Hook & Emma Swan wedding-marriage-scenario, Regina never quite pictured eating wedding cake with the would-be bride without a ring in sight.    
  
    “Vanilla and banana cream.” Emma spoke softly, dryly, half only to her own forkful.   
  
    “What?” Regina had to smile; it was infuriating and endearing, how her son apparently got all of his messy eating habits from his genes- Emma had a lick of vanilla frosting just dangling from her top lip.   
  
    “I… It’s silly, but, I wanted chocolate, but Hook wanted vanilla frosting.” Staring down at the cake, Emma pried off another forkful. “I’m holding up fine, by the way.  _ This, _ ” Emma waved her fork over the plate, “is one of the last things I have to deal with before it’s all over and really finished, and then I’ll be fine.”    
  
    She’d put off too many of the cancellations to get all of her deposits back- that was her own fault, and she chided herself over it. She’d known well in advance, that Killian was gone, that there would be no wedding, but calling it off felt like another failure in a long line of losses- and Emma dragged her feet to confirming it. Now, she just wanted the whole thing disappeared. He’d done the easy thing, the easy thing she’d always prided herself on being good at- he’d left, and Emma had picked up every stupid piece after he was gone. The cake, the  _ cake _ , she chewed harder, was one of the last pieces to pick up.    
  
    “It wasn’t your fault.” Regina struggled with what to say, what  _ not  _ to say.    
  
    “Wasn’t it?” Emma shocked them both by making eye contact; in the weeks since Hook’s disappearance, Emma’s thought of every rational reason he could’ve left, and every irrational one, and a staggering amount of them all worked out to be her fault as far as she could see. “I mean, even now, if.. If it was  _ meant to be  _ or something, if I’d  _ really  _ loved him, wouldn’t I be.. I don’t know, heartbroken, or something? Mostly I’m just embarrassed, god, I’m so  _ embarrassed  _ that I actually  _ thought  _ I-” Emma shook her head, smashing her fork against the banana cream sponge cake. “I  _ tried,  _ you know? But, if he came  _ back  _ tomorrow, I wouldn’t be relieved.” She admitted, quietly; stoically, like a secret she hadn’t meant to keep, but hadn’t ever really meant to say outloud.    
  
    Reaching to cover Emma’s hand with her own, Regina was struck silent for a moment. Losing love had nearly killed her, nearly destroyed her. Rejection in general had been a bit of a touch-and-go concept for decades of her life; Regina couldn’t imagine being forced to deal with it all at once, all with everyone’s questioning eyes on her, wondering how  _ okay  _ she was.    
  
    “It isn’t your fault,” Regina started, her mouth tasting only bitter, none of the cake’s cream or sugar, “You… you don’t have to miss  _ him _ to be sad for, for it ending, you know?” Checking Emma’s face, Regina tried to gauge where exactly she could step without putting her foot right into her mouth. “But… you, you weren’t the problem, Emma.” Regina’s voice softened over the syllables of Emma’s name, remembering times when she’d used it as a jab, as a barb.    
  
    “Thanks.” Refusing to slide her hand away, Emma hooked her thumb with Regina’s without acknowledgement. “Next time, definitely chocolate frosting.”    
  
    “Whatever you like.” Regina shook her head, and cleared her throat. “So, how’re you holding up?” She laughed when Emma’s face soured, scandalized.


End file.
